The Hunters
by OdicHastings
Summary: Safari Joe! For the 2011 version! The story follows both Safari Joe and his son as they go on a hunting trip to a remote planet together. Little do they know that a large scale conflict has been brewing on Third Earth, and that the two of them are about to be dragged into it.
1. Chapter 1

I was surprised to learn that Safari Joe was planned in the 2011 version of Thundercats. Dan Norton had a concept sketch of him done, which I looked at when trying to come up with this guy. I'm not sure what they were planning exactly, but I hope I can capture an appropriate personality for him.

So without further ado... and because the 2011 was desperately short on Safari Joe. Here's his son.

…...

Jag sat in a dark room. The only light provided came from the holographic screen in front of him.

A young man's distorted face was displayed. "So when are you going to be back?"

Jag shrugged. "I don't know." His black hair was slicked back and cut short. His hands and arms showed numerous scars, both small and large. In contrast to his arms, Jag's face was soft and his eyes wide.

"Not after the whole break I hope."

Jag's expression darkened. "Dad's always disappearing for weeks at a time on these expeditions. I think he wants me to be part of the family tradition, or some crap like that."

The feed froze for a second before snapping back. "-few weeks then?"

"I'll probably be back in a month, but it could be longer," Jag said. "Dad usually takes a month on each expedition. Sometimes they're longer. Much longer."

"You'll be back in time for school to start back up though, right?"

Jag chuckled. "Mom would strangle him in his sleep if he kept me from school to go hunting." He picked up his phone and idly pressed through a few menus. "I don't know why he's always trying to get me to come with him on hunting trips. I don't care about nature or animals."

The feed froze again, it didn't fix itself for a few moments.

Jag narrowed his eyes at the screen, irritation creeping into him.

"-still there?" The boy's face moved again.

Jag checked the map on his phone. Their ship was pretty far from... anywhere really. "Sorry, man. I'm nearly out of range."

"I can … messages right?"

Jag smirked. "Might take them awhile to reach us, but yeah."

They spent the next few minutes trying to hold up a broken conversation before the screen froze for a solid minute. It displayed a disconnected error shortly afterwords.

Jag stepped out into the hallway, and was immediately blinded by the bright lights overhead. He stumbled down the hall to the ship's flight deck.

Only one seat was set up in it. His father didn't need any help with piloting anyways, seeing as he always just left it on autopilot until he arrived.

His father's bald head poked out from over the seat, the overhead lights glinting off of it. He casually sat back, just watching the vastness of space.

Jag looked at his phone one last time. The connection wasn't dead yet, but it was chugging at a painfully slow pace.

"Well it's official," Jag said. "We're in the middle of nowhere."

His father tapped a button along the armrest of his chair. A holographic screen appeared in front of him with a news article displaying a picture of him kneeling beside the corpse of a big alien cat.

'Safari Joe Does It Again!' was printed along the top.

He pointed a finger at the screen. "If I can still read about myself, then we aren't in the middle of nowhere yet."

Jag eyed the articles date. "This was from your last expedition wasn't it?"

"As a matter of fact." Joe grinned. "That was my last kill."

Jag nodded and started to step away, until his father wheeled his chair around to face him. Jag groaned internally but forced a neutral expression when he turned back around.

His father was a large man, far taller and far stronger than Jag was. Joe's jawline formed a near perfect square. The only hair on his head came from a thick mustache. The man's face carried a stern quality to it, even then, when he was merrily chattering about his exploits.

"I spent days tracking that beast down!" He raised his hands up. "Its fangs were this big!"

Jag raised a brow and glanced at the image of the animal. There was enough space between Joe's hands to fit his arm, but the animal's tusks were barely visible.

"It was a crafty predator, evading every trap I laid out for it." Joe pretended to hold a gun, acting like he was looking through a scope. "Ha! But it was only a matter of time before Safari Joe had it in his sights."

"Uh-huh."

"I cornered the beast in a dense thicket," Joe said. "It tried clawing its way out the back of the brush, but it was too thick!"

"Uh-huh."

"Backed into a corner, it had no other options," Joe said. "At the last possible second it leapt from the thicket and smacked my gun clean out of my hands!"

"Uh-huh."

"But I grabbed my knife and-"

Jag studied the flight deck's instruments. He was careful to balance his gaze between looking around and focusing on his father. An ETA countdown eventually caught his eyes.

'Sixty-four hours. Twenty-five minutes.'

"It dragged me across the jungle floor nearly three miles before-"

_Three days. I'm going to be listening to this for three days. And then I'll be listening to this while wandering through some backwater._

Jag internally sighed. Why couldn't his father have understood that he just wanted to be home for the summer? There was nothing out there, just a bunch of random planets, with random dumb animals. He could be out with friends, or at home watching television, playing games.

"The full moon overhead, its starving children awaiting their next meal. Me, no weapon, bleeding from my shredded-"

Now he was going to be bored out of his mind for at least a month on some planet that had nothing on it. Nature was pretty, sure. But he knew it would get old in no time at all.

_You've seen one tree, you've seen them all._

"The locals were so grateful-"

"Dad?" Jag scratched the back of his head. "It's a little late. I'm gonna turn in."

"Oh." A look of disappointment swept over Joe. "Well, that's alright. We'll have plenty of time to talk about my latest adventures tomorrow!"

Jag sighed as he walked back down the hall to his room.

"...yeah."

The next couple of days passed by slowly. Being cooped up in the ship with nowhere to go was difficult. Jag had some movies to watch and games he could play loaded on his computer, but you can only sit still for so long before needing to do something else.

The only other thing was some kind of simulation room built into the back of the ship. A red circle indicated where a person was supposed to stand when using it.

Jag hoped it could provide some entertainment, and at least the illusion of not being on a cramped space ship. He grabbed a plastic rifle off the wall. It felt and looked like a real one, but it was just for the simulator.

The floor, walls, and ceiling were made up of small gray tiles, with thick black lines separating them. Stepping into the red circle caused a flash of multicolored light to shine from them before dimming back down.

A holographic screen appeared in front of him, displaying the message 'calibrating system'.

'20%'

Jag shuffled uncomfortably.

'52%'

He tapped his foot.

'100%'

The black lines regained their light. It spread to each tile, each one glowing brighter and brighter until they were nearly blinding, before dimming down.

When the intense light faded the tiles were gone. A forest surrounded him.

Jag stood in a grassy clearing. Trees formed an impossibly perfect circle around him. A bright blue sky hung overhead. The illusion wasn't perfect. Jag could tell where the corners of each surface were, due to a slight break in the imagery. But...

Jag closed his eyes and took a deep breath, letting the sounds of the forest run through him.

Birds chirped in the distance. Wind rustled the trees.

It was one hell of an improvement over the ship.

Jag was almost ready to say he'd be happy to arrive on that planet, even if it was backwater.

Not literally of course. There was no way he'd tell his father he was happy to be there.

He opened his eyes to a screen floating in front of him. The words 'scenarios and training' were displayed across the top of it.

Two tabs were available to look at. Scenarios showed a list of animals Jag didn't recognize. The other showed a list of different target practice modes.

He went with the first on the list.

A white light appeared across the field. When it faded a single wooden target was left behind. The holographic screen moved to the side and changed to display numerous statistics, shots fired, hits, etc.

He wrapped his finger around the trigger as he raised the gun. A red laser blasted out of the front of it.

"Crap!" Jag accidentally dropped the gun.

Despite seemingly falling in soft grass, the rifle sounded like it clattered against metal.

"Alright. Lets uh... lets try that again."

The plastic weapon had no scope on it, much to his chagrin, so he just did his best to line up the shot with his sight.

With a squeeze of the trigger, a red line traced from the muzzle across the field. The laser burned the air next to the target, missing by a few inches.

Big red letters appeared, forming the word 'MISS'.

Jag didn't let his arms move after firing the shot. Laser weapons had no recoil, so all he had to do was let his aim drift a little to the side.

He squeezed the trigger again.

The laser burned the wooden target, sending an explosion of fire and sparks off of it. Giant flashing letters displayed the word 'DEAD-CENTER'.

Jag laughed at the over-the-top display of firepower. Apparently his father tweaked the simulator to be a little more showy than real life would be. That, or it just came preloaded with over-the-top effects.

"You know, most animals won't sit still for the second shot."

Jag looked back at his father.

The forest still stretched off behind them, however a perfect square was cut into the air itself, the interior of the ship lying just beyond it.

"Yeah, well." Joe looked ahead again, and took aim. "I'd do better with a scope." A few more lasers blasted from the muzzle, searing the target.

The first two hit the edges, the last one was dead center.

"Hmm."

Jag glanced at his father.

_Think you can do better?_

He could, obviously. That didn't mean he needed to comment on it.

Jag rapidly fired a string of shots. They all clustered around the center of the target, sending a fireworks display worth of pyrotechnics into the air.

Jag smirked at his father, who tilted his head in return.

Joe smirked at his son. "Showing me how its done?" He took the rifle. "Alright."

The system detected Joe when he stepped up, pausing the simulation. Joe's large form blocked Jag's view as he did something with the holographic display.

A second later the simulated wilderness resumed its peaceful sounds, and the display split into two screens; one red, the other blue.

A monotone voice chirped, "Safari Joe. Turn one."

Jag glanced at the blue screen, and saw a readout of statistical information. A laser blasted forward, causing him to flinch.

Joe shoved the rifle in his son's hands. Jag looked at the target, the dead-center message still drifting away.

Jag wasn't sure how long they went back and forth for, but he was grateful for the distraction.

"Are you ready to turn in for the night?" Joe asked. "Or do you think you can turn this game around?"

Joe's stats: accuracy-100% ... shots fired-295 ... dead-center-294 … misses-0

Jag's stats: accuracy-35.6% … shots fired-295 … dead-center-29 … misses 105

Jag scowled. "I would of done better if I could fire more than one shot at a time."

"Son." Joe smirked. "Sometimes you need to hit the target on the first try."

"Whatever..." Jag grumbled.

Joe pressed a button on the screen, and the simulation faded away, revealing the tiles.

The drab gray walls of the ships interior were far more bearable as Jag walked back to his room. He hadn't planned to be in there that long, but he was glad he had. Anything to make time pass faster was appreciated.

He collapsed into his bed. They didn't have much longer before arriving to the planet they'd be hunting on. Despite a touch of excitement creeping into him it didn't take long to fall asleep.


	2. Chapter 2

Safari Joe falls out of focus, but we've got more robot! Also... lizards.

…...

Thick woodland stretched off to the horizon in all directions. Snow capped peaks stood tall to the north, while a grand lake sat to the south. Rocky plateaus jutted out of the forest, tops barren of foliage.

The gentle sounds of nature were drowned out by a mechanical roar. A ship painted brown and green descended from the sky. Landing struts folded out of the bottom of it, their gray steel digging into the rocky ground they landed on.

Inside the ship a console displayed the message, 'launching exploratory probes'.

A cylinder raised out from the top of the ship, and blasted shiny metal spheres in all directions.

"There we go," Joe said. "All we've got to do is wait a bit, and those will-"

"More waiting?" Jag threw his hands up and stormed away from the flight deck. "I've been stuck on this ship for ages. I need to stretch my legs, get some fresh air."

"Hmm." Joe studied his son for a moment. "I suppose it wouldn't hurt to take a look at the surrounding area, now would it?"

Jag's expression brightened as his father messed with something on his console.

"There." Joe smiled as metal shifted somewhere behind the ship. "You can use that."

"Use... what?"

A small craft had been lowered from the ship. It looked like a boat with a flat bottom. Jag climbed up a ladder built into the side of it and peeked at the controls.

Unlike the ship, that craft did have two seats up front, but all the controls sat on the left side. The entire design was fairly compact and ultimately, somewhat exposed. A windshield was installed in front of the craft, but there was no roof. A hatch was built into the back, but the tiny space it led into was occupied by the engine.

"Where's the thrusters on this thing?" Jag studied the sides of the vehicle.

Joe stood beside it. "Its a hover craft." He lightly kicked the side of it. "Everything's underneath it."

Jag frowned. "Hover craft... but if it doesn't have thrusters how fast can it really go?"

"Not very," Joe said. "Now lower the ramp."

Jag raised a brow while studying the control. "Ramp...? Oh!" He pressed a button with a sticker depicting a diagonal line beside it.

A section of short rails that formed a perimeter around the top of the craft lowered into the frame as the outer hull pushed out, forming a ramp.

"Why do you need the-"

A whirring caught Jag's attention as a purple robot made its way off the ship. It traveled using a small set of treads. The machine's 'legs' were just a pillar of steel ending at its treads, but it did have a proper pair of mechanical arms. As it got closer Jag was surprised to see it even had a set of claw-like hands.

Albeit, they were a couple of fingers short of forming proper grabbers.

It worked its way up the craft's ramp, and stopped in front of Jag. Motionless, it studied him with a lens built into its rounded head.

It shot its hand straight up in the air, and Jag flinched back.

It lowered its hand in front of its head and pointed its fingers straight out. Apparently it was saluting him.

"Greetings, young sir." Its modulated voice had a hint of personality to it, but was close to being monotonous.

Tiny letters were finely printed on its chest-plate that read, 'M.U.'. It looked like there was a third u, but it was crudely painted over with a messy 'L' and 'E'.

"...Mule?" Jag asked.

"Yes, young sir."

A high pitched chirp came from Joe, and he checked his phone.

Jag looked over the side of the craft. "Dad?"

"You two go on ahead." Joe's eyes narrowed at the device. "I need to check on something." He marched back inside the ship, stopping short of the ramp to shout over his shoulder, "Don't let him go too far Mule!"

Jag crossed his arms with a scowl.

Mule chirped, "Yes, sir"

His father disappeared inside the ship.

Jag and Mule studied one another.

"So," Jag said.

Mule stood motionless.

"When did dad get you?"

"Two weeks ago, young sir," Mule said.

Jag waited expectantly for a few moments, but Mule didn't elaborate. He pointed a thumb at the controls. "Do you want us to go...?"

"I have no opinion, young sir."

_This 'young sir' stuff is gonna get really old, really fast._

Jag studied their ship one last time before starting the hover craft up, and taking off.

They launched off the side of the plateau and immediately experienced an enormous drop in speed. Jag groaned under his breath and took the craft lower.

His instruments displayed a readout displaying the message, '5 mph'.

"Why are we going so slow?" Jag asked.

Mule chirped. "The magnetic lifts are dependent on the ground to provide propulsion. You need to fly lower to maintain high speeds. Additionally, speed is reduced if the ground lacks metals or the craft flies directly over water."

Jag blinked. "Oh."

Mule stared at him.

"So..." Jag looked over the edge of the craft. "If I want to go faster I just need to touch down."

"Not necessarily, young sir," Mule said. "Speed increases in proportion to how close the craft is to the ground. You can reach a comfortable twenty miles-per-hour while still flying above the foliage."

"How much faster would I go if I touched down?"

Mule chirped, "Depending on conditions, Thirty to fifty miles-per-hour. However, not having to avoid obstacles would-"

Jag smirked. "Now, Mule. Where would the fun be in that?"

"Young sir, this seems ill advised-"

With a pull of a lever Jag sent the craft plummeting down to the earth. The forest below rapidly closed in on them. Jag pushed the lever back down when a warning alarm beeped at him. Jag winced as inertia pressed him into his seat.

They're descent became more gentle the closer they got to the ground. He came to a halt once they reached the forest canopy.

Jag shifted the craft to and fro, trying to find a small opening in the canopy. "Maybe I didn't think this idea through. That looks pretty thick."

Mule stood unresponsive.

"I'm not sure this thing will even-"

"A dirt road lies approximately one-hundred feet to the north. You could acquire a clear landing there."

"Road?" Jag stared at Mule for a moment. "A naturally formed dirt path?"

"The dirt road seems unusually wide for a desire line, but I feel any comments on it would be speculative, even with the probe data."

"What probe data?" Jag asked.

Mule hesitated before giving off a mechanical chirp. "You lack authorization for that data."

"What?" Jag rolled his eyes. "Dad wouldn't care if I saw that information, he was going to show me it anyways."

"He likely forgot to grant you access," Mule said.

Jag stared expectantly.

Mule just stared.

"And?"

"Young sir?"

Jag threw his hands up. "Just forget it!"

He kept the craft slow while keeping a close eye on the canopy beneath them. He didn't see any break in it ahead of them.

"Please halt the craft, young sir."

Jag did stop, but gave Mule an odd look.

"We are here, lower the craft at your leisure."

Jag grabbed the railing beside him and peered over the side of the craft. Thick canopy lay beneath him.

"Are you sure, Mule?" Jag asked. "It looks the same as everywhere else."

"The trees in this region cast a very wide canopy, the forest is not nearly as thick as it appears to be," Mule said. "You can safely lower the craft here, I guarantee it."

"Alright," Jag said, unsure. "If you say so."

He gripped a lever and looked back at Mule.

Per usual, he stood stock still.

"Here goes nothing." Jag yanked the lever down, sending the vehicle plummeting through the canopy.

Branches cracked and broke as the craft tore through the trees. Jag squeezed his eyes shut, both in regards to the sudden flurry of leaves and a growing sense of panic.

Jag opened one eye, peeking around. They came to an abrupt stop an inch over the ground. The engine gave off a high pitched whine before dying back down. A small shower of leaves coated the top of the craft.

A wide dirt road stretched off to both sides of them. It was...

"Flat," Jag said.

"Pardon?"

The road was too perfect to have occurred naturally. It was wide enough to handle a couple of lanes of traffic. Barely. The dirt that made up the surface was smooth, with only a few plants growing out of it here and there.

Jag slowly turned the craft, aligning it with the road, and took off. He kept his speed low and his eyes focused ahead.

The craft swung around as the path made a sharp ninety-degree turn. Jag abruptly hit the brakes as soon as he made it.

A large group of green and white skinned... things, blocked the path. They wore gray colored metal helmets with red lenses built into them. They marched in an orderly fashion down the road towards him. They carried what looked like oddly designed halberds on their backs. Their anatomy appeared reptilian.

"Uh, Mule?" Jag leaned back, but didn't take his eyes off the creatures.

They in turn, stared at him. Jag placed a hand on the lever, prepared to ascend if they turned aggressive.

Mule approached the front of the craft, but didn't speak.

Some of the lizards looked injured, and their equipment was damaged. More than a few had their red goggles shattered and helmets dented.

"Unknown species. Appears to be armed, caution is strongly advised."

Some of the lizards glanced at one another.

"Might I recommend you give them some distance, young sir?" Mule pointed to a small clearing along the side of the road.

"What?" Jag stared at the lizards. "Oh!" He pulled on the controls, moving the craft to the side of the road.

A few lizards stared, but all of them kept marching.

At the very end of the group was a hunched over reptile with a bit more... girth. An amulet with a skull adorning it hung around his neck. He came to a stop, a glint of curiosity in his eyes before quietly continuing on.

Jag stood still. Even when they disappeared around the bend, all he could do was just stand there.

Mule quietly stood beside him, apparently looking at nothing in particular.

"Holy crap!" He shouted at Mule. "Those... whatever they are. They had freaking weapons and armor. Were those halberds!?"

"Halberds?" Mule asked.

"Yeah." Jag motioned carrying one. "Medieval weapon? Close range blade-spear... thing!"

Mule stood still for some time. "I believe your analysis may be flawed, young sir."

"Huh? What were they then."

"You lack authorization for that-"

"Forget it." Jag rolled his eyes and collapsed into his chair. "Lets just go before one of those things comes back to eat my face."

…...

My thanks go out to frankannestein and heart of the demons, I wasn't really expecting any reviews so quickly. Well, there's actually a third review I got from a guest, according to my email alert anyways. Doesn't look like the site took it. *shrugs*


	3. Chapter 3

We've got more robot, and only a taste of Safari Joe. He'll be making more of an appearance in the next chapter.

…...

The metal craft exploded from the forest canopy. Jag and Mule sped higher and higher into te air while moving toward a rocky plateau. They rapidly lost speed during their ascent.

"Young sir, to maintain speed you-"

"I know, I know!" Jag shouted over his shoulder before descending until they were over the canopy.

The engine whirred as the leaves beneath them rustled. As they came closer to the plateau, Jag tried to pull the nose of his craft up so the bottom was facing the rock wall. He got the craft to tilt enough that Mule was sent sliding backwards, before it latched onto the nearby railing.

The craft quickly fell back to its normal orientation, despite Jag yanking on the controls.

"I-"

Mule chirped, "Young sir, the craft does not work that way."

Jag groaned, staring up at the tall peak before him. He sluggishly shifted the lever, and they rose. Their ascent was fairly quick at first, but died down to a crawl almost immediately.

As they rose Jag couldn't quite sit still. He drummed his fingers on the controls and shifted back and forth in his seat. That probe data had to have picked up something about those creatures, and he was eager to find out what.

A trail of black smoke rose far in the distance. Jag was about to ask Mule where it was coming from, but quickly remembered the robot's usual response to such inquiries. The probe data probably had that information too, anyways.

He threw his weight into the controls the moment their craft came over the plateau. Somewhat prematurely, as the bottom of it scrapped against the rock beneath it.

Jag winced from the metallic squeal, but his instruments didn't report any damage, so he continued as if nothing happened.

His father apparently had been busy since his departure.

Cables ran out form the ship into several different pieces of machinery. Amongst them was a strange metal cylinder that carried a semi-circle shaped sheet of metal on its side. It was slowly spinning, and gave off a low hum.

Jag set the craft down and shut off its engine before jumping off the side of it. He winced when he hit the ground; maybe that craft was a little too tall for drops like that.

The ramp descended a few moments later, and Mule followed.

"What is that?" Jag asked. "Radar?"

"Yes," Mule said. "This model has a short range, but placed this high up could detect movement in the sky."

Jag studied the clear blue sky. "What's he checking for? There's no planes out here." His eyes lingered on the trail of smoke in the distance.

"Unknown, young sir."

Jag smirked. "I doubt you'd tell me anyways."

"Jag, good." Joe rushed out of the ship to meet him. "I was about to radio you to come back."

Jag glanced at the radar. "Why? What's happening."

"I'm... well." Joe glanced back and forth between the radar and the smoke in the distance, before looking at his phone's screen. "I'm not quite sure yet. Not that there's anything for you to worry about."

"Uh?"

Joe strapped a laser rifle to his back and clambered up the side of the craft, starting the engines.

"Dad...?"

He waved to Jag. "I'll be right back. I promise!"

The craft took off, soaring past the edge of the plateau and plummeting instantly.

"W-wait! There... were... these. Forget it."

Mule's mechanical whirr was heard as he ascended the ramp into the ship. Jag followed closely behind. With the craft gone, he couldn't go anywhere, and there wasn't much to see on top of the plateau.

He found himself curious about the probe data again. According to Mule his father hadn't given him access rights, but that was probably just his father being forgetful.

Joe suddenly taking off with little explanation on the other hand, was far more suspicious.

Jag furrowed his brows. What could he do?

Mule stood at the flight deck, behind the pilot's seat.

Jag smirked, a realization dawning on him.

"Oh... Mule?" Jag asked. "Could you, I dunno. Show me how to do something?"

Mule gave off a mechanical chirp. "Yes, young-"

Jag grabbed Mule's arm and tugged him away from the flight deck.

Well, he tried to. Mule was built from hundreds of pounds of metal and stood on a set of treads, so the effort was pointless. Regardless, Mule got the message.

Jag sat behind his computer. Light streamed in through a window behind him, casting dark shadows across his features. A holographic screen appeared.

"So..." Jag typed something on his keyboard. "Hypothetically speaking."

Mule stood by.

"If my father wanted to give me access rights using his account in the system, how would he do that?"

"Simply right-click the 'my computer' icon and go to 'manage'. Enter 'groups'. Right-click 'administrators' and click 'properties'. Select 'add' and then the system account he'd like to give permissions to."

Jag triumphantly hit enter, and gave a broad smile. "Thanks, Mule. Say, would you help me with something else?"

"Or course, young sir."

"What did the probe data find?"

"You do n-" Mule froze, his digital voice giving off a constant, one-tone, chirp.

Jag frowned. "Mule?"

Mule chirped. "the probes have gathered a large volume of information about the area, including animals, plants, roads, climate, water sources, field maps, and towns."

Jag leaned back, studying Mule curiously. "Towns?"

The reptiles had halberds. It only made sense that they'd be advanced enough to build themselves settlements.

"Is that where my father went?" Jag asked. "To look at one of these towns?"

"Unknown."

"These towns... how advanced are they?"

"I'm uncertain how to quantify 'advanced'. Technology levels appear remarkably inconsistent."

Jag leaned back. "How so?"

"Technology of the locals appears to be similar to Earth during the medieval period, or possibly even sooner," Mule said. "However, advanced equipment has been detected, starting with various aircraft that flew in recently."

"Aircraft flew over us?" Jag asked.

"While we were gone, the ship's computers reported an unknown aircraft entering the area, as well as a few others minutes later," Mule said. "Safari Joe set up the radar dish shortly after. I presume in an effort to locate the aircraft."

The possibilities of them making first contact with a new alien species was fascinating. Jag wanted to set off to get a closer look at the creature's, but his father had taken the craft.

"Do you know where my father is now?"

"Yes, young sir," Mule said. "The craft contains a tracking device."

Jag brought up the ship's map. With the administrative rights he had granted himself, he was able to view the region map pieced together by the probes. The craft's location was displayed. He wasn't certain, but it looked like it could be near where the plume of smoke had been rising from.

"Don't suppose dad somehow stashed another hover craft on this thing?"

"No," Mule said. "Though it is not the only form of transportation available."

Jag gave Mule a curious look.

Minutes later they were standing outside with metal box sitting in front of them.

"And he's used this before, right?" Jag asked. "It's safe?"

Mule chirped. "Fly-O-Max's official policy states that they are not liable for any injury or radiation poisoning caused by the use of their products, but they assure their customers that their products have caused no harm before."

Jag eyed the metal box worriedly.

"Unfortunately this is apparently a lie," Mule said. "As a brief look at their history has revealed numerous suits against them. Injury being the number one reason for them."

Jag pushed a button on the top of the box, causing it to open up. "But Joe used it before, right?"

"Unknown, young sir. I have only been in his service for a short period of time."

The inside of the device was padded, with multiple belts set up inside. Jag lifted the heavy mass up and fumbled with the belts, trying to strap them to his chest. As soon as the belts all clicked together machinery inside the pack whirred, fastening them against his torso.

Metal squeaked as the pack opened even further behind him, revealing multiple black circles. One large circle pointed out behind him, four smaller ones faced down. Two were built into each side, one was built facing straight up.

A low hum emanated from each circle as blue light filled them. The air vibrated as the light increased in intensity. The pack shifted on Jag's back before settling.

"Alright. Now what?" Jag asked.

Mule rolled up to Jag, and placed something on the side of his head. He felt cold metal suction against his skin. It was a bit uncomfortable.

"What is that?"

"Gear Integrator," Mule said. "Allows users to gain direction over devices too difficult to control with more standard methods, or to free up the users hands and concentration so they can stay focused on other tasks."

A strange sensation clicked against his brain, sending unsettling waves through skull.

Jag winced. "What is that? It feels... weird."

"It will pass, young sir."

"Is this thing gonna give me cancer?"

"Probably not."

"Probably!?" Jag yelled.

And then something changed. He could... not 'feel' exactly, but he became aware of the pack. More specifically, of its functions. He could sense the small boosters along his back.

He used the biggest one, pointing directly behind him. The light it gave off exploded into a bright burst, and sent him tumbling forward before crashing to the ground.

"Ow."

"Caution, young sir."

Jag grumbled something unintelligible under his breath as he got back to his feet. He took a deep breath and let the back booster burn lightly. His pack shoved him forward, but he managed to dig his heels into the rock under him.

He burned a side booster, spinning him. Then a top booster, nearly forcing him down on his knees.

"Alright, let's try going up..."

Jag took a deep breath and let the bottom booster burn as lightly as he could. His body felt lighter, but he didn't take off.

With a touch of anxiety, he gave a little more. His feet lifted off the ground. Jag became aware of other boosters automatically going off, with fluctuating degrees of intensity. They kept him stable while his feet were off the ground.

"Would you like to go over the integration gear's other functions?" Mule asked.

"Uh," Jag smiled, looking down at the rock just a few feet beneath him. "Not right now."

"Would you like me to activate the integration gear's-"

"Later." Jag spun around, scanning the horizon. "I gotta go."

Jag took off, leaving Mule standing in front of the ship. The plateau slowly drifted away, and Jag lowered to the ground. He wasn't confident he could control his flight very well, and wanted to be as close to the ground as possible in case he suddenly dropped like a rock.

The smoke was nearly gone in the distance, but he at least knew where its general location had been from the map.

Jag dropped until he was near the treeline before boosting forward.

…...

And now Jag has a sci-fi jet pack. I have mixed feelings on using it, but I needed him to pursue his father and didn't want to use a hover board. So, here we are.

Thanks to Anne, Night Whisperer, and Heart of the Demon for your comments.


End file.
